But everyone deserves a second chance. What is there to lose, my darling?
Virginia shot up, for it was as if her mother, smiling and benign, had spoken.
“We do not have a ship’s surgeon, but if you are in extreme pain, I do know where the laudanum is kept.”
She turned to stare at him, aware of how wide-eyed she must be, and his gaze narrowed in return. He was wearing his naval uniform, making his presence even more powerful, more formidable and even more seductive. “I won’t need any laudanum,” she breathed.
Her mother had been the kindest person Virginia had ever met. No one in need was ever left without, not if Elissa Craycroft Hughes could help it. Children were her greatest cause, and one Sunday a month they had made the long trip to Richmond so Father could make repairs to the orphanage there while Virginia and her mother handed out baked cookies and homemade toys. Every other Sunday they went to church in Norfolk. After the sermon they would mingle, with Elissa always asking the poorest folk how they were and what they might happen to need. The townspeople were proud and it was a rare day that anyone would admit to any lack, other than to being sick. Somehow, Elissa always knew what was needed, whether it was a poultice of her own making or a freshly washed and repaired hand-me-down shirt. And finally, they’d stop by the black folks’ church, Virginia always hoping to catch the last of the singing of the hymns and the dancing. Elissa was welcomed there as warmly as if she were a slave herself. She was never empty-handed; her grapevine always told her if Grandma JoJo needed a new pair of shoes or if Big Ben’s boy had the fever again. And no needy stranger passing by Sweet Briar had ever been turned away, either.
“What is it, Virginia?” he finally asked. “Are you anxious about finally meeting your uncle?”
She started. “No. I was thinking about my mother,” she said slowly, still consumed with the memories, and she smiled at him.
Instantly he glanced away.
Her mother, Virginia thought ruefully, would agree with Sean. Especially as her daughter was not immune to the man to begin with. She sighed and finally regarded her captor openly. Her heart skipped a little. “We missed you at supper last night,” she murmured, as he had remained in his study, apparently immersed in estate ledgers.
He shifted and turned his head, settling a cool glance on her. “I doubt that.”
In the past, such a cold remark would have hurt her. But she understood him a little now. As a child he had lost far more than his youth the day his father had been murdered, and what she had witnessed from the moment of meeting him was the result of that. This man was heavily scarred. And Sean was right. He wasn’t a bad man. She had never seen cruelty, sadism or evil. What she had seen was a ruthless discipline, forced upon others and forced upon himself. And what she hadn’t seen was any sign of happiness, not once in all the time she had spent with him.
She was torn and confused, not certain of what tack to take, and as uncertain whether she wanted to feel any compassion for him, but whether she wanted to or not, the fact now was that she did.
“You know, Virginia, I am feeling like an insect in a laboratory glass.”
“I’m sorry.” She smiled a little at him. “Were you ill?”
He sighed with annoyance, said tersely, “I had a migraine,” and stared out of his window again.
She started to laugh.
He glared at her.
She bit it off and widened her eyes innocently and said, “Men don’t have migraines, Captain.”
He simply stared at her, very coldly.
He was in a worse mood than usual this morning. She decided to ignore it. “And even if they did,” she continued, “you are not a man who would ever have such a headache.”
“Pray tell,” he said grimly, “why we are having this conversation?”
She faced him more fully, her heart racing now in her breast. She felt as if she shared the coach with a dangerous lion, one who might choose to bite off her head at any moment with the least provocation. “Well, it is a good hour to Limerick and we are enclosed together in a very small coach and I am being polite.”
“There is no need.”
“And you did not join your brother and myself for supper last night,” she added.
“I wanted to allow the two of you one last meal alone,” he said mockingly.
She blinked. “Are you being serious?”
“My brother is in love with you, Virginia,” he exclaimed. “By now, surely, after that sweet scene last night, even you must be aware of it?”
She inhaled sharply.“What?”
He smiled at her, but it was mirthless and she realized he was angry.
Was he referring to the conversation she had had with Sean on the terrace before dinner? Had he been eavesdropping? “What scene?”
